The nerve
How dare I ask to be understood
To be heard during my blues
Why would I deserve the blooms
And not the constant dooms
Whom am I to let down that tear
Claiming to have had difficult years
When all I've had really
Are cuts to my heart like beautiful pierce
What happened did not happen
At least not how I tell the way it happened
I'm creating stories in my head to look for attention.
Oh no I'm not hurt
These are my happy tears
Because who am I to become sad..
At the world, for how it had been cruel.
Oh the nerve of myself,
To ever be depressed!
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